Episode Lunafreya: The Waltz of Dusk and Dawn
by ElvenInk
Summary: **DISCONTINUED** After the ordeal of summoning Leviathan, Lunafreya awakens, wounded both physically and mentally. Having seemingly survived the attempt on her life by the Accursed, the Oracle sets out to discover the truth of Ardyn's past in hopes of changing his future.
1. Chapter 1

It was with no great gasp, nor jolting of the spine that brought Lunafreya Nox Fleuret's eyes fluttering open. She awoke softly, gingerly, eyebrows furrowing almost immediately against the glare of the sunbeam glancing across her face from where its cutting tendril pierced through the window on her left.

With a little grunt and a little more difficulty, the Oracle pushed herself up on thin, pale forearms that quaked under the effort, until she was seated someone inelegantly, back supported by the pile of plump pillows and cushions scattering the overly-large bed. Frail and stricken as she was, the huge bed only looks more ridiculous for it, swathed as it was in royal blue silk linen and scattered with far too many pillows. Four poster beams towered in each corner, holding drapes of shimmering azure, a fitting imagery for the city outside.

 _The city..._

Like sluggish raindrops splashing on her mind's eye, Lunafreya began to blink the fog of sleep away as memories trickled back to the forefront of her mind. The city encircled in the seas, Altissia...that was where she had arrived, and where she presumed she still resided. She recalled the waters well, how sapphires had turned to obsidian, how the seas had churned and cascaded _upwards_ into the air, merging with a storm so wild it had been impossible to tell what was rain and what was sea spray in the air around her.

Bare feet swung from under the bed sheets and found the plush carpet as Lunafreya got to her feet, a little unsteadily. Her side ached and felt too tight, as though every movement threatened to split it open across the ivory white carpet under her. Absently, a thin hand came to coil around her waist, palm settling a soft warmth over the pain, and she paced towards the window.

If she was in pain, then the city must surely be weeping; outside, buildings were cracked or crumbled entirely into the winding sea that once wove gently through the city. The waters had settled back to a dull cobalt, but had not fully receded back into the ocean. Rivulets still fractured the pathways and walkways like shattered glass, and the rain still fell, though far softer than it had been last Luna was conscious. She found herself peering up into the heavens, seeing how the black clouds had already faded to grey.

Most prominently of all...the absence of the _monster._

Lunafreya's eyes focused upon the glass of the window itself, seeing her own ghostly face staring back at her. Too pale, too thin, she had lost what little weight she had over the recent weeks. Dark circles bruised under stark blue eyes, and her white-blonde hair had lost much of its sheen, falling ragged and loose around her face. For a moment, she saw the monster's face echo in her reflection.

Strong features, amber eyes that crackled with the remnants of a fire that once blazed and now dulled, an ever-present smirk, and in his hand—

Luna felt her lips part in a gasp, as though the ghost of the dagger the man held had pierced her side once more, and her free hand clapped over the hand already holding her side. _Ardyn_. The Chancellor of the Emperor who had kept her like a bird in a gilded cage...as uncomfortable company as ever he had been, Luna had not expected the humorous and nonchalant man to have turned so suddenly, so cruelly. The blade had been unexpected, even more so the darkening of those gold orbs in a fury Lunafreya had recognised all too readily.

She had once seen it cloud her brother's eyes: the inky blot of _revenge._

And yet, fear did not claim her heart as she turned from the reflection, nor truly anger. More prominently, a question bore at the Oracle's heart.

Why?

For what reason did Ardyn Izunia have to hate her, or her family? Lunacy may have fit him, and perhaps no reason was to be wrought. And yet, that answer fell unsettled on Luna's mind. Oh, she had seen something snap in the man's usually collected countenance, a hand striking her face pulsing in memory in her head, no doubt madness had lurked under the Chancellor's skin, hidden from her view until then. But it did not seem to fully explain his want to have her _killed_.

Sitting on the bed, Luna found her mind wandering to the fallen prince, another noted absence in her waking moments. Lying prone upon the altar, the light of the stars now belonged to him, and Luna had no doubt in her heart that Prince Noctis had conquered the Leviathan's wrath and brought her under his reign. That Ardyn had attempted to take her life as a means to fuel urgency in Noctis was, perhaps, one reason for this macabre turn of events. But still, this did not untie the tangles pressing in Luna's thoughts. Surely the loss of his father was fuel enough, and the Empire would know this well.

No, there was something else that blended all of these pieces together, something more _personal_ to Ardyn that remained a mystery to Lunafreya.

She was not a creature of revenge, and she had no intention of hunting the man down to simply kill him with a blade. Her revenge would be wrought of something far more _potent_ , the Oracle thought to herself, casting her eyes back to the window once more, watching the rain fall. For the light was kind, and warm...but it was also _searing_ and _blinding_ , a cruel spotlight without escape, nowhere to hide for its all-seeing gaze. She would seek the truth, drag it from the shadows; _that_ would be her revenge upon the Chancellor who would see her merely dead. Everything he sought to hide would be brought out into the light at her command.

Snapping from her reverie at the sound of the door clicking open, Luna felt her jaw muscles relax, unaware she had gotten so tense. She turned a little where she was sitting, though she knew well who would walk through the door. A light that shone too intensely to heal, too short-lived to be called a warming light, brighter than her own but more irritable for it, her brother was the crackling, striking judgement of lightning where she was the comforting glow of the moonlight.

But light knew light, and she always knew Ravus' presence before he even made himself known.

"Lunafreya—"

Urgency and concern coloured Ravus' tone, and he moved more briskly to her side for seeing her awake. If she was not mistaken, Luna could see something of shock in her brother's mismatched eyes. A reminder of the awful contraption the Empire had gifted him, the purple and oily black metal arm to replace what he had lost long ago. The limb had tainted one eye to the same purple hue it hummed with, and it caused the Oracle unease, though she felt foolish to say it aloud.

"The covenant...did the prince succeed?" Her voice cut across Ravus' concern, and Luna could see him almost visibly recoil with distaste.

"Of all the things that warrant discussion, you would pick _him_ before your own wellbeing. Yet again." The white-haired man noted curtly, metal hand curling into a fist tightly at his side. His disapproval of Noctis was well known, and all the more that he did not think Noctis a suitable heir to the throne. But Lunafreya knew the truth of it – it mattered not if Noctis was suited to the throne of the kingdom. His throne was not crafted of stone or metal, but of souls. That he was a natural ruler or no would never effect his reign...

Heart plummeting in sorrow, Luna's gaze fell from Ravus' face to the floor. The burden of the Oracle's wisdom...was that of silence.

"I would put the wellbeing of our world before my own. That is my duty. The covenant." She pressed, finding the strength again to look up. Ravus seemed to still for a moment, debating internally on the answer. A lie would not cross his lips to the thing he held most dear in the world, of course, and he spoke in a clipped, reluctant tone:

"Prince Noctis forged a pact with the Hydraean. Had he taken a moment longer, I daresay we all would have been underwater by now." The man walked to the window Lunafreya had stood at moments before, and she could just see his face reflected in the glass. "I can only hope at least one person fell below the waves of the Leviathan's wrath."

Luna blinked, lips parting a little in surprise. Ravus did not need to name who he hoped had fallen.

"Chancellor Izunia did not return from the altar?" She asked, getting slowly to her feet. Her brother turned, a confused expression creasing his light brow. No doubt he knew who had attacked her at the altar, for Ardyn had done little to conceal himself. But something more seemed to concern Ravus, as he turned his back fully to the window to face his sister.

"He did not. I had hoped that perhaps the Astrals saw fit to finally lift a finger in defence of the family that has lost all shielding their precious kings." He noted venomously, head tilting to the side, "though perhaps I ought to have known better. If they had, they would have struck the dagger from his hand _before_ it ever reached you."

Footfalls brought her brother before her once more, and for a silent moment, he seemed held by his pride and anger...before he knelt before her, face softening with a sorrow only Ravus could compose.

"...Forgive me, sister. I was too late to reach you, and for that, you nearly paid with your life. Had you perished for my failures, I do not know what I—"

Almost on instinct, Luna's hand came to tilt Ravus' head up at the chin.

" _No_. I forbid this. You know I forbid this – my life is ever on the line as my duty demands. My fall will _never_ be your doing, it will never be your burden to carry. Now or ever." For the first time in a long time, a smile softly crossed Luna's pale lips. "And you certainly do not get to drown yourself in guilt for something that did not occur. I am still here."

It was then that she noticed; Ravus was _shivering_ , his breath clouding a little from his nostrils. Before she could enquire, the man had rose to his feet once more, sorrow not fully leaving his face.

"All the same...Ardyn will pay for what he has done. That you survived was a blessing, and the fact remains that he sought to kill you."

"Ravus – our duty is far more important than revenge. The gods will cast judgement on him; the best we can do in revenge is to continue. He has failed to draw me to a halt, so I will continue on. One more Astral remains for Noctis to form a pact with, and I daresay she will be far easier to talk to than Leviathan."

As planned, the last Astral Luna would help Noctis form a pact with would be Shiva. Easily done, for the ice goddess walked among mortals in the vessel of the Messenger, Gentiana. Ever at her side, she would have little qualms with speaking to the prince. Her absence had resounded since waking, however, and Lunafreya looked around, as often the woman would appear and disappear at will. Indeed, she had deliberately left during the summoning of Leviathan, citing that her powers would cause a far greater chaos when paired with Leviathan's rage. But in the wake of the serpent's torrent of fury, Lunafreya had thought the woman would return.

"...Ravus, where is Gentiana?"

Oh, and as he repeated his words, Lunafreya realised a moment too late why the mask of sorrow had not utterly fallen from his face.

"...That you survived was a blessing. _Her_ blessing. To you." Ravus spoke softly, in respect of how the words would no doubt wound his sister. "Gentiana is...no more."


	2. Chapter 2

In the days that passed since Ravus had informed Lunafreya of Gentiana's passing, the Oracle's heart had tumbled through a rabbit hole of emotions, though none had reflected on the astutely perfected mask of her face. She had learned long ago of the strength to be found in an unwavering face, to not let her bottom lip tremble no matter how her heart sunk. To not let tears fall, no matter how much her eyes stung. If she had paused to weep over every wrongdoing in her life, to hold anger and bitterness in her heart over every slight done to her, no doubt the light in her blood would flicker and taint for it. If her heart had hardened, it was with the desire to shield the world, and not to strike it down for its cruelty.

Still, though she may not show it, nor speak venomous words of revenge, Lunafreya still _felt_ every throe of emotion at the loss of Gentiana. Though the world may call her the Oracle, and place her closer to the gods than truth would dictate...Lunafreya was still human.

Her jaw clenched a little as a toughened crystal blue gaze struck out across the seas from where she was currently standing at the crumbling Alter of the Tidemother, where Ardyn had revealed his madness to be less than jovial and more than sinister. She was human, and she would be lying if she said the desire for revenge had not cross her heart, that the thought in her mind tempted her with the justification that the light would strike down the darkness that threatened this world. That she would strike down he who had caused Gentiana to fade from her life.

The thoughts, like her heart, were quietly tucked away from the view of the world, along with a wistful idea: perhaps this self-same bitterness had caused the Chancellor to become the smiling shadow he now was. Perhaps he had not had the resolve as she had to ignore the temptation of personal satisfaction in revenge. Perhaps he had been wronged more grievously...

Strange, Luna thought as she turned away from the ocean's view to walk down the broken path leading to the altar, that such a thought of attempting to understand the man would come from musing upon the dark desire of vengeance upon him. Stranger yet, _why?_ What revenge could he possibly wish for that would bring him to want to kill her?

These questions only served to further frustrated Lunafreya in her silent walking. Truly, she knew quite little of the Chancellor – he had rose through the ranks of the Niflheim Empire, known not only for his grand ideas but his skill to pull them together. The Empire's army grew by his hand, the weapons crafted greater, the Empire expanding more rapidly than in the years before his arrival...and few questions were put to the man as to _how_ he had managed this feat, for his humourful nature and almost ridiculous demeanour cast him as though he were no threat at all, merely a clever man with luck on his side.

Beyond his title and his name, Luna wondered if anyone truly knew anything more about him. He had never mentioned a family, if he had one, nor even a personal goal. Soldiers spoke of a desire to become a General; Generals to become Commanders; but the Chancellor? He had not even spoke of the want to become _that_ , let alone anything more.

Before she knew it, Lunafreya was treading the path back to her rooms. Another gilded cage, she thought, a prisoner of the Empire and Altissia until the politicians untangled their squabbles over ownership of her with tokens and exchanges. She cared not, in this moment. As she walked, she felt a soft sigh escape her lips, the only notion of sorrow she had allowed herself.

Gentiana had not had a funeral; how could she? Few knew of her, and nothing could be buried. Still, the Oracle yearned to do something to remember her by. Perhaps a symbol of remembrance in the sylleblossom fields, once she returned to Tenebrae. She would attend, and perhaps Ravus, and Noct—

Lunafreya's heart plummeted to her gut.

How foolish she was, to think after all was said and done, the three of them would return.

...How foolish she was, to remain in this cage and wallow on it.

Partly in her resolve reforged, and partly for a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision, Lunafreya turned from the pathway leading up the building. The blur of white that caught her eye, darting behind a shattered plinth that may once have held one of the city's carved architectures, was first attributed to Pryna. She had not seen much of either Pryna or Umbra, the Messengers who had accompanied her for as long as Gentiana had. Umbra, she thought, was likely keeping a watchful eye on the Prince. That he had left Altissia was understandable. Ravus had informed her that, in order to keep her shielded, news of her death had been leaked throughout Eos. No doubt Noctis believed it, and though she wished to send message of her survival, she understood in part that a danger to herself was a danger to the prince by extension.

Still...she knew the man's heart, and of his haste to drag all the blame onto his own shoulders. To think of him somewhere berating himself for _failing_ her in his mind...Lunafreya could only hope seeing Umbra may spark some sense of hope within the prince once again.

As for Pryna, Luna had grown concerned over her absence, and this concern brought her feet to a dash as she chased after the blur or white fur darting through the crumbled streets.

"Pryna? Pryna! Here!" Luna called out after her, dashing through the streets in the evening gloom, the hard stone ground pushing up uncomfortable in the flat soles of her shoes. But Pryna did not stop, darting and dashing with more speed than Lunafreya had ever seen of the dog.

"Pryna! Wait!"

Her breath was coming short, the wound in her side prickling. She had tended to the wound herself, her light magic stitching the flesh together to a light scar across her torso, but the bruising and tenderness would remain and fade as with any wound. The echoes of mortality could not be touched, even by the light of the Oracle. Still, she chased through Altissia, thankful that Pryna seemed to be heading for the city outskirts. If she wished to flee the cage of the Empire and Altissia, they at least had the same track in mind. Had the Messenger sensed her yearning, and took lead to find a way from this water-bound city?

As the water's edge came into sight once more, a horizon beyond her eyes promising return to the mainland, the dash of white bolted in front of Luna and she nearly careened over the creature now positioned in her path. It was not Pryna after all, but a small, white-furred creature with overly long ears and a tiny horn of ruby upon its head.

Where she did not recognise its appearance, Lunafreya recognised its aura, the silvery gleam of its fur and the spark of _wisdom_ in its eyes. A Messenger, one she had not encountered before.

Casting a look over her shoulder to ensure her absence had not yet been noted (she had been granted permission to visit the altar, and perhaps the grace of grieving allowed her time to be left alone a little longer than usual), the Oracle then looked down at the creature, bending at the knees to try and meet its level.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked, not for one moment feeling ridiculous for speaking to the creature. The creature responded by trotting in a circle a few times, eyes expectantly upon Luna as it came to face her again. The Messenger could not communicate, it seemed. Then again, neither Pryna nor Umbra could speak, though they often found other means of communicating with her.

The white-furred Messenger walked towards Lunafreya, snuffling its little nose along her skirt, particularly by her hips. "What are you looking for? I have no pockets to investigate." Luna noted with a light chuckle at the animal. It looked positively upset. Did it usually find something in a mortal's pocket to communicate through? Paper? Coins? Perhaps a mobile telephone, Luna thought with a smile, how odd that would be for a semi-deity to use!

Upon finding no pockets, the creature wandered back in front of Lunafreya and began dragging its small paw through the dust and debris. Luna's gaze followed its etchings, until a word was spelled out before her.

" _Car...bun...cle?_ Carbuncle? Is that your name?"

The little creature gave a nod, and Luna's hands came together as she recalled her teachings: the Carbuncle was indeed a Messenger from many of the ancient tomes...though, she had to admit, she had envisioned something grander of the _ivory-maned fox_. It was said the ruby horn of the Carbuncle could heal any disease, and that the creature had mastered the ability to walk through the dreamscape, guiding lost souls back to the waking world. Luna recalled a grand tale Noct had once shared with her, of a great dream he had once had in the aftermath of his injuries as a child. Vivid and colourful this dream had been, where he had followed a white fox through many strange rooms and finally to the waking world. That she had not realised this to be the doing of the Carbuncle now seemed so silly to her.

"Are you trapped here too?" Luna asked, cocking her head to the side, "Unfortunately, without a boat, I daresay we both might be."

The Carbuncle gave a small chirp, dancing in a circle once again. _Follow me_ , it seemed to beckon, as it turned and began to trot away once again...and disappeared from view, the air before it shimmering like a window then rippling as water as it stepped through. Luna felt her lips part in surprise, eyes widening. Did the Messenger mean to traverse the dreamscape to offer her an escape?

More importantly...whose dreamscape would she be wandering through?

Questions for later, she decided, straightening to her feet once more and stepping forward to follow the Carbuncle into the route it offered her. With a hesitant hand outstretched, she walked through the glimmering air.

The evening dark had veiled from her eyes that the ripples were not clear as they had been when the Carbuncle stepped through...but tainted with a blackened-purple hue. The form of Lunafreya disappeared from the world, remaining briefly in the shuddering reflection of the portal to the dreamscape. The silhouette seemed to blur for a second, a form drawn broader, eyes of gold...before dispersing along with the portal, leaving nothing but the street in the quiet of the night.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading this fic so far! The chapters are likely to get a little longer from here.**


	3. Chapter 3

The Oracle stepped out of the portal, feeling the ground crunch under her shoes, dust shifting underfoot. Her eyes dipped to see a grey and dry path fractured and split like a broken mirror, and she could see her shoes had changed from the hastily thrown-on slipper shoes to a more sturdy pair of boots. Lunafreya blinked in alarm and looked down at the rest of her, turning this way and that to see that her whole attire had changed – gone was the creased, worn white gown that she usually wore, as impractical as it was beautiful. In its stead, a black dress tied at the waist with a crimson belt, contrasted by a silvery-white underlay down the centre of the garment, skirt cut at the shins and allowing much easier movement than her previous gown had.

It was not lost on her that the attire resembled her prince's own outfit, and the thought brought a sense of urgency to the Oracle. She had to find her way back to him, to guide him on his quest. Looking up once again, Lunafreya took in the world around her; strange and warped, the grey ground split through a field of burned and charred fields, ashes rising lazily from the burned blades of grass up into the purple skies. No clouds churned in the skies above, and yet, it was as hideous and unnerving as the real sky was calm and peaceful, a polar opposite that unsettled Luna's heart. It seemed to pulse with a mind of its own, as though it were some grand and grotesque living thing smeared above them, black veins threading and coiling through. She looked away with a tensing of her jaw, feeling her teeth click a little as she did, and looked again to the ashen fields around her. A few trees, barren of leaves, creaked in the breeze.

Yet, strangest of all...the air _swirled_ with sylleblossom leaves. Despite the death and decay of the world around them, they curled in the air and settled on the ground, in the fields and on the tree branches like snow.

A vibration in her pocket snapped her out of her musing of her environment, and she patted her sides for a moment before noticing a small pocket in the side of her dress, a slim cell phone buried within. Curious, she took it out and the screen flickered to life with a message:

[ **This isn't right! I was supposed to take us to a dream sure but...not his dream!** ]

Who had—

As though to answer her question, Lunafreya felt a tug at the hem of her skirt. The Carbuncle was worrying at it with his teeth, stopping only when he noticed Luna look down. The phone beeped and vibrated in her hand again.

[ **I'm sorry! He doesn't sleep much...what bad luck! That he's asleep right now! Lady Oracle, we have to leave this place! We must find the end of the dream. Follow me!** ]

There would be time for the thousands of questions in her mind later, and she would not usurp the urgency of the Carbuncle's advice with demands now. She nodded, pocketing the phone and setting off in a run after the bolting Carbuncle. The little creature's white fur stood out easily in the dull and dead world around them, so it was easy to keep track of him. The world did not change as Lunafreya tore through it, save for the strange sky above. It seemed to grow _closer_ in every moment, the black veins sprinkled through it growing thicker and swallowing a little more of the purple canvas they lay upon.

Greys trees and ash-crumbled fields blurred by her, all ribboned with the cobalt, misplaced sylleblossom petals that danced sadly in the weak breeze. Who's dream was this, to conjure such an unsettling world where there ought to be peace? She could only assume that whoever it was was afflicted by the malady of the stars, the skies overhead lending credence to this as it seemed to have devoured any light that dared break through. She hoped that, once they reached the dream's end and returned to the real world, they would arrive close enough to the dreammaker for her to help him...

Just then, the Oracle felt something barely brush her cheek, a soft, silken slip of a petal. One of the sylleblossoms had grazed her face lightly and in the moment it did, Lunafreya's sight was blinded in a burst of white. For but a second, the scenery in front of her changed into fragments of images flashing before her eyes; a man with dark red hair screaming, a glimpse of a large, heavy wooden beam. Nothing more came to her before it was all over as quickly as it had started, and Lunafreya lurched back into the dreamworld once more. She stumbled forward a few steps, catching her balance and her breath in time not to fall face-first into the ground.

"What was that?" She gasped, trying to compose herself. She instinctively hugged her arms around herself, looking left and right as to avoid the tumbling sylleblossoms in the air around her. Fear gripped her for but a moment before her innate courage scared it away, and she realised she had lost sight of the Carbuncle. She searched for a moment, taking out the cell phone and checking for any messages from the creature, and finding nothing. A frustrated sigh hissed from her lips, and she looked once more at the blue petals on the ground. What had they shown her? Was it a flash of the dream this sleeper was having? Or a memory that an invader such as herself should not have been privy to?

"...But there's so many..." Luna noted to herself softly. Thousands of petals, perhaps more, more than a lifetime's worth of memories. It made more sense to her (as much as sense could be wrought from this world) for them to be an infinite possibility of dreams and nightmares. She set off once more, walking now instead of running, searching through the gloom in hopes of catching sight of the snow-furred Messenger.

As she walked, Lunafreya began to reflect on the world she had stepped away from. Specifically, her heart fell not upon the prince, though she did worry of his current state if he believed her dead. No, her heart settled on that of a friend now lost to her – Gentiana, the Messenger who had exchanged her lifeforce that Luna might survive the wound inflicted upon her by the Chancellor. Yes, she considered the Messenger a close friend, and she did not doubt that Gentiana cared for her. But Gentiana was of the Astral plane, and Lunafreya could not help but wonder why the woman had deemed her the one human life that deserved to live at the cost of her own. Something of the act brought further questions of the Chancellor who had wanted her dead in a sudden snap-change; his usually jovial and almost clumsy personality, overly dramatic and seemingly blissfully unaware at times, rotting away at the drop of a hat to a cold, calm calculation and a frozen hatred. And for what? Though the pair had never been close (Lunafreya had, of course, known the man throughout her time confined to the Empire, but little more than a passing acquaintance had settled between them, as amusing as she sometimes found him in the meetings she was _allowed_ to sit in on), truly there was no sense nor gain she could see for the Chancellor to achieve by killing her. Quite the opposite in fact, the Emperor would likely see the man executed for robbing him of his best leverage.

There was something more to him, something interwoven with her's and Noctis' story, of that she was certain. Her light-imbued power had reacted the moment she had touched his arm, the ghost-echo of the Starscourge quietly acknowledging the presence of the Oracle. Was he afflicted? Had it happened recently, decaying his previous personality away to the colder temperament she bore the wrath of on that pier? No, she thought. She would have noticed such a thing.

Before she could ponder further, movement in the corner of her eye caused Lunafreya to snap up and look, hoping to see the Carbuncle trotting back to her. But what she saw brought her to a halt, eyes widening a little as a black haired male disappeared just out of sight.

"...Prince Noctis?"

Before her mind truly had time to process, she was setting off at a run once more, until the man came back into her line of sight once more. He was running away from her, and his clothes were unlike what she had seen him in when he had arrived in Altissia. A heavy coat splayed out as he ran, boots gleamed as they were capped with steel. But the midnight hair was unmistakable, though perhaps a little longer than she recalled.

But it was a sight resembling normality in this mess of a world, and the only lead she had to finding a path away. And so she ran along his trail, calling out his name to no avail. Some part of her realised something was amiss, for surely he could hear her and surely the Noctis she knew would not continue without looking back to where her voice came from, but the person before her did just that. The ground was becoming uneven, the cracks in the dry grey becoming larger and sliding more and more underfoot until eventually, her foot caught and Lunafreya found herself tumbling forward. Instinctively, she threw her hands out to break her fall, her palms striking the cold path hard, cushioned only by the scattered veil of blossoms.

Once again, upon contact with the petals, flashes blinded her eyes: hands that were not her own making a mad, desperate grab at an impossibly blue light being ripped away, skin flayed and _snapping as_ it burned its way out. The terrible sight blazed away, but instead of returning her sight to the dreamworld she ran through, she barrelled on to more snippets of this strange tale. The sound of laughter and a haze of green grass, a woman with dark hair; a blue glow in a hand outstretched to an afflicted person, the scourge leaving them; terrible eyes behind a steel dragon mask; Noctis and yet, not him, holding his sword up, tears in his eyes; the eyes changed and began pouring with black; a daemon, its head being pressed against the maw of the Crystal and burning away to ashes between the hand that is gripping the back of its skull and holding it in place—

Lunafreya came to with an audible gasp, dragging air into her lungs as she broke the breath she had not realised she was holding. Scrambling to her feet, she nearly cursed as she realised she had lost sight of the Noctis-figure now too. Bringing a hand from her forehead, Luna screwed her eyes shut as she tried to rid the last image that had burned into her mind's eye from her head. Such cruelty to show a creature left to suffer in the darkness. Worse yet, she had recognised the gloved hand holding its face into the Crystal's light, the flared cuff.

"Would you judge me, Lady Lunafreya? I would say you have every right to, but perhaps not for the reason you're thinking of right now."

A velvet voice sounded around her, and she whirled on the spot to come face to face with Chancellor Izunia. He was _grinning_ , but it was not the slothful, playful smirk that seemed ever-present on his lips as she was used to. No, this one was cold, a lazy cruelty of a cat toying with a mouse in its claws. The wound, sealed but new on her torso, pounded in response and she found herself taking a step back.

"You...this is... _your_ dreamscape?"

Of all the people. Surely it could not have been a coincidence, and that the Carbuncle seemed to know and fear Ardyn was a loose thread that began to slowly sew the parts of this strange affair together. The picture was not yet clear, but Lunafreya could feel it would eventually come to light, even if she had to drag it out herself.

The man tilted his head to the side, regarding her with mild curiosity.

"I would be hesitant to call it a _dream_. That would suggest a semblance of peace and rest could be wrought from this place." The man stooped down, picking up one of the petals that Luna had fallen upon. It lay in his open palm, and Lunafreya could see the blue petal folded and creased with brownish lines, crumpled and damaged. She wondered if it had always been that way, considering the memory housed within it. "If I were one for sleeping well, it would be a dreamscape. Alas, I am something of a poor sleeper, and this place is more a...prison."

Ardyn lifted his hand then, and blew lightly on the petal. It darted out and Lunafreya flinched away before it could touch her again, and she noticed the man's lip curl to reveal a flash of teeth and a chuckle rumbled from his throat. It was enough to bring her brow creasing in irritation.

"You have stood before the Crystal. You... _scalded_ the skull of a daemon within it. I saw that cruel memory, and—"

"And what, exactly?" Ardyn cut her off, beginning to turn away from her as if to leave. "Do you think cruelty is reserved for only the damned among us? For the creatures you call monsters for lurking in the dark? Perhaps you ought to join us there then, Lady Lunafreya. How did you put it?" He looked over his shoulder, reciting slowly: "Power. Untold power, beyond the control of someone like **you**."

Luna's heart _dropped_ to her stomach as the man recalled the words she had so carefully and coldly chosen in times past. A man she could see reflecting her brother's own desire for power...speaking words to him that she _knew_ would lead to his downfall. She had had no other choice, she told herself. For the good of the world, she had lead a man to _burn_ to death, no, worse...for his soul to be set ablaze under the Ring of the Lucii. Cruelty.

"I carry the burden of my actions every day. It is my duty, as Oracle, to sacrifice what I must to—"

"Paint it as a sacrifice of your own, but the truth is, you sacrificed that _poor_ man..." The laughter in his tone suggested Ardyn felt no such pity for the fallen Kingsglaive. "But so long as you feel _guilty_ about it, that makes **cruelty** turn to **nobility** , does it? I shall bear that in mind. My goodness, you really _are_ an Oracle, through and through...you're starting to sound like the Astrals you commune with...I wonder why _that_ is..."

With that, Ardyn turned and began to walk away with a soft chuckle, casting a wave over his shoulder.

"Do run along now! I told you, I am a terrible sleeper...if I should wake, this world will crumble with you still within it. You should have followed the rabbit, my dear, not the cur!"

Luna had half a mind to go after him, to demand answers instead of riddles. That she should sound like an Astral, to follow a rabbit, everything was a _game_ to him. Frustration boiled over and she stepped towards him, only to see the figure of Noctis running in the corner of her eye again. She whirled on the spot, hating this confusing and tormenting place. Her eyes locked on the retreating figure.

"The _rabbit,_ my little Moonstone!"

If only to spite him, Lunafreya glowered over her shoulder at the wandering form of Ardyn as he left, before setting off after Noctis once more. It would be foolish to follow the advice of a man who had tried to kill her, after all. As she continued her path towards the fleeing form of Noctis, the world around her began to shudder and tremble. The trees began to dry and curl in on themselves, bark flaking and falling into the breeze to join the sylleblossoms, the fields starting to catch alight and turn the grey ash to burning orange cinders. The sky above was blotted, the obsidian veins growing and forming into great long arms and claws, interlocking until they blotted out the amethyst behind it and leaving nothing but a black void above her. As they did so, an ungodly chorus of _howls_ began to rise around her, swelling into a crescendo so loud she had to cover her ears.

Wincing, she found herself finally catching up to Noctis – he was slowing down, staggering to a halt and shouting a single word:

"Oracle!"

Lunafreya came to a halt at his side, finally seeing his face for the first time – just as she feared, the face she saw was not Noctis'. Similar, yes, but his features were sharper, his eyes were silver where the prince's were blue. And though he had yelled her title, he did not look at her. Instead, the man was fixated on something in a little ways from where they stood, and did not even acknowledge Lunafreya's presence.

Luna followed his line of sight, the dreamscape still rotting around them. A short distance away stood two people she _did_ recognise: Ardyn and...Gentiana? They were facing each other, almost in an embrace, but she could not make out what was happening. She narrowed her eyes in hopes of seeing further, but felt herself being unceremoniously yanked up by the collar of her dress at the back of her neck. She yelped, seeing a thundering run of white paws beneath her as the ground tore away at speed. Looking up, she saw the Carbuncle in a gargantuan form. It had found her, scooping her up in his mouth and running through the rapidly deteriorating world.

The Messenger bolted through the dreamscape, coming to a horizon where, if Luna's eyes did not deceive her, a tiny, microscopic sparkle of light gleamed. It glinted as they approached, then opened out into a portal akin to the one they had come into in the first place. The Carbuncle's pace increased and they fled through it just as the dreamscape disappeared into dust as Ardyn awoke.

With neither grace nor elegance, Lunafreya was flung out of the portal and landed in a heap on the ground of the real world. Groaning, she got to her feet, finding herself in a field that much to her relief, was a normal, grassy plain. She suspected she may well be somewhere close to Duscae, but exactly where she could not say.

"Carbuncle?" Luna whispered, as the night had not yet fully broken to dawn and she did not wish to risk a daemon hearing them. "Carbu—"

Her voice caught in her throat as she found him. A little distance away, lying on his side and reverted back to his usual, small form. The Carbuncle did not move to answer her call, nor did it move at all. He lay, utterly still, as the night's air stirred his fur and the grass where he lay.

 _You should have followed the rabbit._


	4. Chapter 4

Luna did not recall falling to her knees, nor the soft thud as her legs struck the grass chilled by the night air around her. The madness of what had just occurred finally seemed settle enough in her mind to become solid, and yet, with a weight that pressed painfully on her reality. She had trekked the rare dreamscape of the man who had, until recently, been familiar to her. A cunning, yet harmless, bureaucrat who had shifted and warped just as that dreamscape had, and become something almost comically unfitting to the established understanding Lunafreya had built of Ardyn.

A madman. A murderer. A smile carved in a walking conflict.

From the hurried words and warnings as they fled the crumbling dreamscape, Lunafreya could only conclude that the Carbuncle had not intended for them to take such a perilous path out from Altissia. The Oracle finally blinked, feeling the veil that clouded her eyes sting and relieve for it, as her now-cleared blue orbs settled on the still form of the Carbuncle. The creature was still lying in the grass a little before her, and silently she found herself crawling a little towards it.

Would her path be set out in the fallen forms of Messengers?

As if to protest even before her mind settled upon it, the Oracle felt her light swirl to life at her fingertips, casting a yellow-gold hue over the Carbuncle's silvery form. Hers was a life of sacrifice, not to be sacrificed for. Hers was a life to heal, not to wound. Hers was a life to offer salvation, not to watch as others fell.

Whatever the Chancellor truly was, whatever malice or madness kept that grin ever-ghosting his lips, it would cut nothing more from her.

"Your life is not his to decay..." Luna whispered, hand settling gently atop the Carbuncle's fur. She wondered exactly what it had been within Ardyn's dream that had wounded the Messenger so, or whether the dream-form of the man himself had struck the creature down. Had he seen an opportunity, perhaps, to trap the Oracle within that realm and finish the botched attempt upon her life? Unforgiven as it may be, she was not blind to the truth of it; such hatred could only be birthed from _something_ , rightly attributed to her or not. She would discover the story of the poison that fuelled this monster, lest it corrode any further into the prince's life. For she could feel in the back of her mind that the sudden revelation of the Chancellor's true colours would bleed into the prince's prophecy.

It felt like a small step of payback then, when the Carbuncle began to stir, a strike against the man that had now become a sudden face for the until-now voiceless darkness she had fought all her life. Still, she recoiled from the feeling, fearful of its meaning upon her soul. She should be glad to save a life, Lunafreya told herself, not rejoicing that its act was in defiance of another.

Slowly, the Carbuncle folded its paws beneath it and, with a tremble, pushed itself unsteadily onto all fours. Trotting in a small circle, the creature looked up meekly at the Oracle, the sadness hardly hidden in its eyes. For what, Lunafreya could not be certain.

"How do you feel?" She asked softly, a small smile on her lips in hopes that the expression would lighten the other's heart. The Carbuncle shook its head, not in rejection but as if to shake off some cloud lingering around it, and Lunafreya felt a buzzing in her pocket once again. She reached in and pulled out the phone once more, checking the screen:

[ **Shaky, but better. I am sorry if I scared you! I must have overworked myself back there...such a huge form is pretty difficult for a Messenger to maintain. Even Shiva had to make do with a smaller form once she became housed within a Messenger.** ]

Lunafreya felt her own heart plummet at the mention of Gentiana, and pushed herself up to her feet once more, looking around the gloom of Duscae if only to distract herself. A life no longer her own, but gifted by one she held so dear. Though she wanted nothing more than to find the prince and let him know of her safety, Luna knew this would be, in part, a selfish act. If Ravus was the man she knew yet, no doubt he would not tell anyone within the Empire that Lunafreya had survived her ordeal at the altar. He of all people would see the protection it could afford her to no longer be hounded and caged by either side of this war.

How far did this newfound grim shield spread, that the world believed her dead? Did anyone beside Ravus and Ardyn know? The latter's motives were so wholly clouded now that she could not predict if the man would report loyally to the Emperor of the Oracle's survival, or feed false fact to his ears of her demise.

The first step then, Lunafreya decided, was to discover what the world knew of her current place in the world. Of what the puppetmaster allowed his toys to know. Perhaps then, some of the veil over the Chancellor's motives would lift, if she could discern which path would lend him more service: a living or dead Oracle.

"Thank you for helping me escape, Carbuncle." Lunafreya smiled down at the creature, nodding once. "I am forever in your debt. But I fear this is a warning; we should not remain too long. It is not safe. Return to the Astrals with a message from the Oracle, if you would." Lunafreya paused then, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. Less a message, more a question. Dare she speak such to the gods she served?

Resolve welled so quickly it was almost in _bitterness_ : of course she dared. She of all people had every right to demand answers from the deities she served, if they knew of these hidden blades so close to her without mentioning it.

"Carbuncle...please ask the Astrals of Ardyn. If he is a threat to the light of this world, it is my duty to know. The darkness of the Starscourge is an insurmountable task in and of itself – if I cannot know the different faces that darkness may take, my disadvantage only deepens. Please, on my behalf...would you appeal to the gods that they tell me _everything_?"

The small creature's head bowed for a moment, and Lunafreya wondered what position she had put the Messenger in. For a second, she received no response. Then, the familiar buzz and beep of her phone:

 **[...Sure. I can't promise they'll answer. But I'll tell you what I know, Oracle: the Chancellor? He isn't just afflicted. There's more than just darkness around him. The very _world_ around him seems to reject his presence. Like he shouldn't _be_ here, and the world knows it. I wanna know too...but...] **

Lunafreya lifted her gaze from the phone screen, the light casting her face in a blueish glow as she considered the Carbuncle. Even closer to the Astrals as he was, he didn't seem to know much more than she had discerned now. The creature looked up at her finally, giving a small squeak in unison to her phone going off again:

 **[ I'll come back soon and tell you what I find out! In the meantime...be careful, Lunafreya. The world is only getting darker. Take this with you, maybe it can help! ]**

Carbuncle trotted around in a small circle as a silvery starlight glimmered a little above his head, a sprinkling of stars blinking in the air around them. As they dispersed, a shimmering white cloak floated and folded to the ground, nestling in the grass at her feet. It was spun a brilliant white and hemmed in silver, a stiffer peak of silver sewn under the top of the hood that would cover the wearer's eyes from those looking at their face, but allow the wearer to see out. Hardly an inconspicuous attire, Lunafreya nevertheless stooped and picked up the garment, twirling it around herself and fastening it, leaving the hood down for now as her phone sounded again with the Carbuncle's message.

 **[It's an oldie but a goodie! That cloak used to belong to the Founder King. Daemons can't see you when you wear it, so you can travel in the night safer when wearing it. Well, so long as the hood is up...eyes are windows to the soul, and all!]**

Following his instructions, Lunafreya quickly pulled the hood up over her head, and the phone vibrated once again.

 **[Great! Though, maybe wear it down during the day...people might stare. I'll see you soon! Stay safe!]**

With that, the Carbuncle disappeared in a burst of stars trailing up into the night sky. Lunafreya arched her neck up, watching as they ascended, before pulling the cloak a little tighter around herself and beginning to walk through the night.

* * *

Travelling on foot was a new sensation for Lunafreya. Though she quickly found safe campsite areas for each rest she needed, the woman found she knew little of surviving off the land. The price of the Covenant still wracked at her bones and blood, weakening her body to the point of frustration. Once, she had been willing to accept the price of the Covenant, in service to the gods she had full faith would aid the rightful king to bring about an end to the darkness. Now...now questions had snaked into her mind of just how _little_ the gods were doing, and what a price they demanded of the people they were failing to protect.

Her heart hammered even to think on it too long, as if in fear that Bahamut himself would hear her heart. What irony it would be, for the gods to ignore all their prayers but to hear a venomous whisper.

No doubt without the gifted cloak, the daemons would have hunted her down in mere moments and brought an end to her borrowed life. But under its protection, Lunafreya made it after many days travel, to the grand road towards Lestallum. The city, she felt, would be the best place to glean information and the general mood among the people.

She all but limped into the city, feeling blisters upon blisters cutting open on her feet, the stinging snap each time her feet rubbed against her shoes. Her legs ached and seized, unused to such long travel, her back cold and stiffened. Ducking into a nearby alleyway, she removed the cloak with a sigh and leant back against the wall, nearly slipping down to sit. She would not allow herself to, however, for fear she would not get back up. Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked down at the cloak in her hands. Turning it this way and that, she noticed the inside of the cloak was fashioned in a black lining. Far less conspicuous than its silvery moonlight outer layer, Lunafreya quickly twirled the cloak inside-out, folding the peak back and tucking it away so that when she wore it, it looked nothing more fancy than a black travelling cloak.

Stepping back out into the street, she quickly blended into the crowd with only a few eyes glancing her way. A few gil in her pocket and a need to rest brought her to a nearby cafe and, spending a few coins on food and a drink, the Oracle sat down at a corner booth and began to slowly pick at her food. Discreetly, she kicked her shoes off under the table, hissing and wincing as she felt skin being left behind on the leather inners. She could heal them later, away from prying eyes. For now, relief would do.

"But, what will happen now?"

Her ears perked up, tuning into the sound of conversation from the booth behind her:

"It's a sign from the gods, to be sure. The Oracle, killed by the Leviathan's wrath? I mean, if the Astrals are pissed at Lunafreya of all people...we're all pretty screwed."

"Leah!"

"Well, it's true! We got no Oracle, no king...and the nights are getting longer. Not like the Empire is gonna save us, all they care about lately is the whereabouts of the prince. Like that _one_ guy is gonna be a threat to them at this point...the war's over...it's all over..."

Lunafreya felt her heart curl on itself: the Empire was chasing Noctis, no doubt seeking the Ring of the Lucii. It had left her possession that day at the alter, and she had prayed it had found its way to destined hands. It would paint a target on Noctis' back, but all hope would indeed be lost if he lost it to the Empire's grasp. She had pleaded to the Astrals for their aid...it was up to Noctis now to find the Crystal and bring light back to the world.

Her job...was to fend off the darkness until then. And now, to find out what exactly _lurked_ in that faceless shadow, the man that seemed to be strangely pushing Noctis towards that goal.

"...what about the wake?"

Lunafreya's attention was caught again by the conversation behind her.

"...Yeah. Yeah I mean, of course I'll go. Lunafreya was the last good thing in this world. Only seems right to show my face at the vigil, you know?"

"Mm-hmm. I heard the Empire is doing something over in Tenebrae, some big fancy celebration as the Oracle's wake. Doesn't seem right to me."

It didn't sit well with Lunafreya either, and she felt her jaw tense and her eyes harden in anger. Indeed, the way in which Tenebrae conducted a service at the end of one's life was a little different than the rest of Eos: it was less a mourning and more a celebration of life. Yes, there were tears, but focus was brought upon the light the departed had brought unto the world, the smiles and impact that soul had had on those around them. It was a time to reunite with mutual friends and families, and salve the wounds of grief with stories of the beloved departed. Her own mother's wake had been a storm of tears and smiles as Lunafreya had both wept for her loss and smile in sorrow of the tales others brought to her of the happiness and support her mother had given to countless people.

That the Empire sought to bastardise that tradition, and in _her_ name.

Perhaps she had lost focus a moment too long, for she returned to her senses just in time to see a hand grace by her table, a card dropped on the side. Confused, she picked the small card up, turning it over in her hand.

 _We invite you to honour and celebrate the life of the late Oracle, Lady Lunafreya Nox gather at Fenestala Manor..._

Lunafreya felt her lips pull back in a grimace of _insult_ , and she turned just in time to see a broad figure ducking out from the cafe door, a hand held up to place a hat upon his head. She could almost _hear_ his chuckle in her ears as he departed.

"Chancellor..." She muttered the name as she would a curse under her breath, bringing her eyes back to the card he had left behind. More than a mockery, it was a warning: he knew where she was. Why? What sense was there for him to be toying with her?

She may well be playing into a trap, but if it served to draw his attention away from the prince, so be it.

She would entertain this demon once more, and be a guest at her own wake. Shoving her feet briskly back into her shoes and standing a little too sharply, Lunafreya glanced at the card once more to finish reading it. The rest did little to appease her, and she crumpled the card and left it atop the table as she held her chin up and walked out of the cafe, hood pulled back up over her silvery blond locks.

 _We gather at Fenestala Manor, on the eve of the final day of the month._

 _Please adopt the appointed dress code for this noble celebration: in honour of the late Lunafreya's selfless rejection of recognition for her brave actions, we too shall reject recognition for this night in her name. Hide your tears, hide your pain, just as the brave Oracle did. Anyone without a mask at this celebration will not be permitted._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's note: I am sorry that I left this for six months before updating. Life has been somewhat hectic, and I have also been working on my novel. I do hope this chapter is worth the wait, and I have written it in hopes of bringing a little justice for Lunafreya given the recent announcement of her DLC episode being cancelled. Thank you for your patience, and thank you so much for the reviews so far - I adore hearing what people think of my work, good or bad.**_

* * *

Lunafreya recalled the first Tenebraen Wake she had attended. She had been quite young, a little too young to fully understand the finality of death. Her father was gone, that she had understood, but she didn't truly understand the weight of the word _forever._

But in Tenebraen culture, death was not to be feared. It was not to be hated, but to be celebrated as much as life. It was customary for a ball of sorts to be held after the death of someone of status, and for the common folk, smaller parties echoing this tradition were often held after the death of a loved one. When she had grown up and understood the world around her more, Lunafreya had often wondered of the origin of the Tenebraen Wake tradition. Her family was, after all, the representation of light and life. Such a celebration of what comes after would better fit the family they supported; the Lucis Caelums, with their bond to sacrifice and death.

Perhaps that was why the Tenebraens made a display of celebrating. To support, to heal, and to show their stance alongside the royal family. In any case, wherever the tradition of celebration itself came from, the masks the wake commanded be worn were not such a mystery to the Oracle.

In eons past, only the Oracle and her family had been required to wear a mask to such an event. The idea had been that the Oracle, and the bloodline thereof, were pillars of hope and light. Grief and sorrow could not be shown, lest their sorrow snuff out the hope of those who looked up to them. An Oracle must betray no emotion of their heart, no tears from their eyes; an Oracle must be strong and shoulder the hopes of the world. To give hope to the world, even in the darkest times.

But of course...every Oracle had been but human at their core. None could keep eyes dry at the death of a loved one. And so, the masked tradition came about, that the world could not see their tear-stricken faces. Naturally, along the line, this concept distorted that everyone in attendance would wear masks.

Had Ravus shared this information with Niflheim at her 'death'? Lunafreya felt her heart twist for her brother — he knew she was alive, and yet, to keep her protected, had to grieve her as though she were dead. She dreaded to think what he would do if she truly had died that day.

Or had it been the Chancellor who whispered to the Emperor that a Tenebraen Wake would foster a better image of himself among the people of Tenebrae? She had no doubt in her mind that the strange man, (if he were truly a man at all; Lunafreya struggled to think of him as such now), had been the one to ensure she found the invitation to her own funeral.

Part of her wanted to rebel against the strings so clearly being tied to her limbs. For her to show up at the celebration would be to play into Ardyn's hands exactly. And yet, another part of her felt curious for his reasons — one, for why he wished her dead. Two, for what he would gain by her attendance. Surely he did not mean to recapture her. Noctis would be seeking him for revenge, whether it was revealed she lived or not.

There was only one way to find out.

Looking up from the small dresser in front of her, Lunafreya stared at the mirror before her. Thin hands came up to readjust the mask on her face. It glinted in the pale light that breathed softly into the room. The journey to Tenebrae had been difficult, and woefully uncomfortable. More than once, she found herself thinking a little jealously about the Prince and his friends in that comfortable car of theirs, while she had to stowaway on trains to reach her own home. Still, a small smirk tugged on Luna's lips as her focus came back to the mirror. She knew Fenestala Manor like the back of her hand, and had managed to sneak into the grand building like a shadow in the moonlight. The Oracle did not risk going to her rooms, but knew exactly which rooms had been vacant for quite some time.

There were plenty to choose from. The Tenebraen royal family had thinned in numbers of late...

The mask she had chosen moulded to her face perfectly, though its look brought a pang of sorrow to her chest, squeezing it uncomfortably. It glimmered and glistened in all directions, so many facets cut within its glassy exterior that it had the appearance of being carved from ice. Tiny blossoms of white dotted its clear surface, like smatterings of frost. The only part of her face on show was her eyes. Even her mouth was covered, with a darker blue jewelled lip carved upon the mask in their place.

The Oracle rose, adjusting her dress. It was not her own, picked up quickly from a musty wardrobe in one of the abandoned rooms. It was a little big on her, but it would do to blend in at the ball. After all, she was not the Oracle at this celebration.

The Oracle was dead.

* * *

Lunafreya crept quietly along the corridors of the manor, quickly melding into the groups of nobility (mainly Nifs, she noticed), without notice. The flow of people carried her like a gentle tide through to the main hall. She spoke to no one, and no one noticed her. No one, Lunafreya supposed, was looking for her at her own funeral celebration.

In the main hall, Lunafreya immediately felt familiarity clash loudly with strangeness. She knew, and did not know, this place. Oh, the high, arched ceiling with its coils of green vines and white blossoms, those she knew. The grand pillars that stood tall like soldiers holding up the roof above their heads, those she knew. She knew the third on the right had a tiny 'R' cut into the side of it, and she knew how Ravus had been scolded for the act of rebellion and destruction of the ancestral home.

But the air...the air, she did not know. The people, she did not know. The shields upon banners displayed along the walls...of Niflheim, yes, her mind knew them. But her heart did not.

Perhaps this distraction was to blame that she did not notice someone approaching her until a gloved hand barely graced her upper arm.

"Who attends a masquerade without a partner in tow?"

Lunafreya's face jolted up, and she was thankful for the mask hiding her shock at the sound of Ardyn's voice. He was utterly unpredictable — yes, she had expected him to do something, but not something as bold as to confront her directly in a crowd. Surely he wouldn't attempt to finish his botched attempt to kill her now...he had a charade to keep up as much as she did.

Swathed in black and gold, Lunafreya was quite sure the long, black cloak and golden trim would have looked ridiculous on a man less intimidating than the Chancellor. Or, perhaps it did to everyone else who still though of him as but a bumbling bureaucrat, and not the sinister shadow she had come to see. His mask was gilded in gold, completely smooth and devoid of features, and yet its smooth texture was compromised. Under the eyeholes the gold gilding was cracking and crumbling, revealing flecks of black beneath. Whether it was the design or an old mask, Lunafreya couldn't tell, but it was certainly jarring given the otherwise sleek appearance of Ardyn's attire. It wasn't helped by his unkempt tangle of wild red-violet hair sticking out around his mask. The man looked completely put together from the neck down, then a crumbling wreck from the neck up.

She wondered which better reflected his true self.

"My partner is...away on business." Lunafreya responded curtly, knocking Ardyn's gloved hand off her arm with a brisk flick of her hand.

" _Oh?_ " Ardyn stepped back a little, head tilting to the side in mock curiosity, "And what profession is so urgent as to abandon his lady to attend a ball on her own, hm?"

Luna felt her lower jaw tense, her teeth pushing a little uncomfortably. Already this man was getting beneath her skin. She wasn't sure what was worse, his mockery, or his feigned ignorance.

Or the fact he wanted her dead.

"He's a hunter."

"A dangerous job, to hunt daemons." Ardyn quickly rebuked, and she could almost hear him smiling beneath the mask. "I do hope he doesn't get himself hurt...chasing daemons far bigger than he is..."

"Forgive me, I wasn't clear. He isn't a daemon hunter." Lunafreya offered back too sweetly, starting to walk away though she knew the taller man was looming behind her. She didn't deign to face him even though he kept the conversation going.

"Then what, pray tell, is he hunting?"

"... _Crystals_."

Lunafreya allowed herself a smirk as she was sure this would give Ardyn pause. No doubt he thought he had won, that the Crystal was his. She had no doubt in her mind that the Prince would reclaim what was his, and regain the Crystal from Niflheim. From Ardyn. And yet, as she whirled around to face the Chancellor confidently, expecting to see a scowl in his eyes, she saw nothing but a glimmer of mischief.

"Crystals, you say? I've known a few men with a penchant for collecting crystals in my time..." He mused, drumming a finger against the smooth chin of his mask. "He ought to be careful. A passion such as that can be terribly... _absorbing_." Luna heard his rumbling chuckle, no doubt an insult that only made sense in his own mind. "He might lose sight of everything else."

Before she could retort, the crowd shifted as the music swelled louder around them. They were moving inwards, a little too quickly for Luna's liking. She nearly stumbled at their movement, but was caught before she hit the floor. She found herself scooped up, an arm supporting her back and a hand in hers.

In all her life, Lunafreya had never known a man to be able to smile so boldly with his eyes, and yet look so hollow in them at the same time. Once again, she found herself at odds between her desire to learn the truth of this man, and the want to see him brought to justice for what he had done. For what he had tried to do.

"Can you dance?" He asked politely, drawing them slowly to follow the many couples in arms around the hall. The music was solemn, hauntingly beautiful, and the dance they fell into was slow and calm. She resolved to make the most of an uncomfortable situation to glean more from Ardyn.

"Why did you invite me here? I am no longer a concern. The Prince has made his pacts with the gods. I can do no more for him."

"You sell yourself short, my lady." Ardyn replied as he kept pace a little too easily. It was as though he had partaken in this dance many times before, an almost bored lilt in his steps. "Our dear Prince may have no further use of you...but you still feature _very_ prominently in **my** plans."

The words sent a shiver over her skin. Goosebumps prickled on her arms, but she remained defiant and steeled herself.

"You still wish me dead."

"Very much so, yes..."

Around and around they went, their words unheard by the dancing crowd. It was ridiculous, she was dancing with the devil himself. He made no attempt to hide his want to spill her blood, but where could she run to?

"You are not the first to wish to see an Oracle's demise. But I can't help but wonder why. Your country took such pains to capture me...there were plenty of opportunities. Why now?"

"Timing is _everything_..." Ardyn purred, "And time and I are very _old_ acquaintances. Killing you the moment I set eyes on you would do little but appease a portion of my desire for revenge. Killing you to spur the Prince into blindly running to his own destruction...why, I believe the phrase is _two birds, one stone_..."

Luna suppressed a dry gulp, fearful that the bobbing of her throat would give away to the Chancellor that he had brought fear to her heart. Her death was to be as bait for Noctis to lose sight of his rationality, to goad him into mistakenly running straight at Ardyn. Still, it didn't make sense to her. His words sounded less like he wished to fulfil a duty to the Empire he served; it sounded far more raw, more personal. Revenge...

Around and around they went, Lunafreya's stomach lurching as they did so. She had learnt nothing, learn everything, learnt nothing. And now she had no escape, trapped in the arms of a man who would see her dead.

She looked down, watching Ardyn's feet. It was easier than locking eyes with him. Step, two, three, step, two, three...he didn't miss a pace.

Step, two, three.

Step, two, three.

They'd all fallen into his dance. They all thought the tune was war, of kingdoms, of empires. Of kings and crystals, of light and dark. They hadn't noticed when the Chancellor had changed the melody around them to something far more sinister, far larger than any of them could comprehend.

His actions, till now, had played the part of serving the Empire. But her death would serve Niflheim ill. Ardyn had been chasing his own revenge (though for what, she was yet to understand) all along, playing her, the Prince, the Emperor, everyone for fools.

Step, two, three.

Step, two, three.

"... _Meticulous_..." Lunafreya whispered, more to herself than to Ardyn. "You don't miss a step, Chancellor. Everything falls into place at your behest, and yet, I can't help but wonder..."

Circle, turn, step, two, three. She wondered if a dagger would flash between these turns, if a blade would come back to her ribs instead of his hand.

"...how a man who commands such detailed plans with such precision..."

Step, two, three.

"...hidden right beneath the noses of powerful men..."

Step, two, three.

"...how such a man could _fail_ to mortally wound a person inches from them."

Step, two— _lurch_.

The Chancellor fell out of step with the crowd, as though the Oracle's words had physically struck him. For once, his eyes showed something other than bored jest. Now, they were alight with indignation at her accusation.

Good.

She could not revel in her victory for long as his hand came up to clamp on her chin, tilting her head up to face him.

"You _live_ through the pandering of the Glacian."

It was strange to hear him speak of the Astrals so...familiarly. Most spoke of them in an almost disbelieving sense, a deity outside their understanding. Ardyn spoke with nothing short of venom as though they were disliked people he had regularly encountered.

"Gentiana gave her life to heal a terrible wound. A terrible wound that _would_ have killed me...you **chose** not to kill me swiftly. You left me wounded. And I know why."

Feeling bold of her words, even though she could not back up her claim to know why (gods, she could not begin to comprehend this man), Lunafreya's hand darted out to grab Ardyn's wrist. Before he could pull away, she yanked the sleeve up to expose his arm, and place her palm upon it with an audible smack, a little too aggressively.

Just as it had that day on at the altar, her light magic responded instinctively to the presence of darkness, glowing golden-silver. Lunafreya ignored the gasps around the room, the halting music, the circling crowd and whispers.

Her eyes were locked upon Ardyn's mask, his amber eyes _ablaze_ behind the sharp edges of the eyeholes as he glared down at her hand. He seemed locked for a moment, before pulling his arm away with such disgust, such force that he yanked a stumbling Oracle forward to the floor at his feet for the force of it.

Lunafreya hit the ground hard, her knees smacking painfully against the stone floor, her palms striking out to stop her from falling on her face, the cold stone meeting the flesh of her hands abruptly.

It had been but a moment, but it confirmed the niggling question of a memory in the back of her mind from her near-death at the hands of the Chancellor. Just as it had now, her magic had responded to him. Just as it had then, she had felt something beneath his skin. Beyond the darkness, beyond the Scourge she knew too well as it gripped him, and oh how it _gripped_ him like no other she had tended to. Beyond the hatred, the snarling, the daemons in his blood that howled at her touch, she felt it. Small, barely more than a whisper...

...a single, weak beat within his heart that had been just enough to angle the dagger wrong, just enough to draw his hand a millimetre away from instant fatality, just enough to buy a few hours for the Oracle he sought to kill...

 _ **Conflict.**_


	6. Author Notes: An Update

**AN:** Another 6 months without an update. I am terribly sorry for this — life has been quite frantic, but I do want to finish this fic (even though I feel quite guilty for working on it and not my novel...which is also suffering a bit of a standstill).

Nevertheless, I have downloaded the app for FFNet, which means I can write on my phone as I'm on the bus places. This should mean more frequent updates. Huzzah.

I've been dutifully inspired by the anime for Episode Ardyn. So I am hoping to have a new chapter written and uploaded by tonight or tomorrow night.

Some of you may have noticed a slight tweaking of the title and description. Yes, I'm being arrogant enough now to prefix this with "Episode Lunafreya". It's just a sly wink to the fact this is written from her point of view.

Also, I've removed the pairing in the description. I'm still shipping that ship, but I'm not certain this fic will head that way...at least, not in a "happily ever after" way.

I also added a word to the description. It changes a lot. I wonder if anyone will spot it.

Also, I plan to go back over previous chapters for some grammar and punctuation edits. I've spotted a few and they are irking me.

But yes, thank you for the reviews and your patience. Hopefully, you will see a new chapter in the next 48 hours.


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Line breaks are now "0-0-0-0-0" as I'm typing on mobile and it doesn't seem to offer the proper line break!**

 **0-0-0-0-0**

In her mind, the perfect heroine would have gotten to her feet deftly. She would stare the Accursed in the eye, daring him to show his true colours, dark and blotted as they were, before all the Niflheim nobles gathered at her false wake.

But Lunafreya had long since learnt that her story was not a perfect one. Its heroes were struggling through their roles, their swords found in tombs and not from some helpful deity. The villain was darkness itself, not one single power-hungry mere mortal.

And she?

She did not want to be found. She had worked to hard to sneak into the castle, to circumvent the Niflheim guards, to mask her attendance to her own wake.

Luna struggled to her feet, knees promising blue and purple bruises, palms biting in pain. She felt her lips pull back in a frustrated grimace, her training as Oracle allowing little else to show through — always the rock for others to lean on, never the one to show a tear.

Finally, she raised her eyes to meet Ardyn's own, but stopped in shock of his expression. It was sad, almost mournful, but with a glimmer of self-satisfaction that she could not help but notice now.

"Behold! The Lady Oracle is yet with us!" The Chancellor announced grandly, securing the desperate want in Lunafreya's heart to disappear and flee. To blend in once more with the shadows. After all, what would her being found here earn her but a one-way trip back to her cage?

A murmur of excitement, and a few scattered sobs encircled Lunafreya, and she made to flee into the crowd. Though people parted, no eyes followed her, fixed as they were where she had once stood. She didn't pause to look back until she reached the grand archway that framed the entrance of the ballroom, the quiet concerning her.

The murmurs had become pockets of discussion, a few notes of wondering if the Chancellor was "blessed" to receive a "visit from the late Oracle".

"What—" her lips moved, voiceless but her brow creased all the same as confusion wracked her mind once again. A buzz in her pocket alerted her, and she found her mobile phone again. Only one creature messaged this way.

 **[Miss me? Head outside, to the sylleblossom field. I'll get you out of there and I have news! Hurry!]**

Ah, that the Carbuncle had returned offered her heart a little support in a time when Lunafreya felt nothing short of completely alone...but she was afraid she had so many more questions now than when they had last parted.

As the Oracle turned to leave, a hand caught her elbow. Heart sinking, dreading to turn around to meet those scalding ambers once more, Lunafreya offered a venomously icy glare to the Chancellor.

"You know, answers often hide in the dark," Ardyn spoke in a low tone, as though worried someone would hear, "but so often do people forget that a bright light swallows just as many details as the darkest shadow."

With that, he walked away, a trail of his masquerade outfit fluttering as he walked out of the halls and left the commotion behind him. Luna glanced back at the crowd — there were no answers for her there, only risks. She looked down at the phone still in her hand, the Carbuncle's message on the dimmed screen.

She could find the Messenger again, surely. But Ardyn...he was slippery. If he was feeling talkative, as his cryptic comments suggested, could she afford to pass up the opportunity? Then again, was the man simply setting up a trap once more, in order to finish what he started?

0-0-0-0-0

"So? What reason did you come to?"

Ardyn's manner of greeting coaxed a frown from Lunafreya as she followed him out onto one of the many balconies of the manor overlooking the courtyard at the front of the building. The sylleblossom fields would stand swaying to the back of the building, perhaps with a certain small bundle of fur waiting expectantly for her. Lunafreya suppressed the feeling of guilt that rose around her heart.

"Reason?"

"Before our little spectacle. You said I chose to leave you wounded rather than offer you a swift death. You said you knew why." Ardyn tilted his head a little to look down at her. He has removed his mask, and it now hung idly in a slack grip of his hand, arms leaning on the balcony. Even slouched as he was, he was a good deal taller than she. "So? Enlighten me."

"You didn't kill me because you _couldn't_ ," Lunafreya replied, keeping her eyes forward, "because your heart is not wholly dark. I do not know why, nor have I ever sensed so much of the Starscourge in a living person before...but yours in a soul of torment. The darkness moved your hand, but the fading light interfered. You didn't kill me because you couldn't bring yourself to."

The statement was left for a blessed moment, like a strange olive branch between them. It was not sympathy, nor pity, nor was it forgiveness. Lunafreya understood the depths of the Starscourge's hold on this strange man now, but details yet elluded her. She felt there was something else buried deep in Ardyn's mind, a past self that could not free itself. But it was speculation at best.

The moment passed as the man to her left began to laugh.

"Ah, is that what it was? A _conscience_ tugging at my arm in the last second? Bless your sad little heart for still thinking so highly of me, Lady Lunafreya, but I'm afraid you are wrong. I had every intention of killing you at that altar. And I struck to do so."

Lunafreya felt her blood chill at his cool admittance, and she did not move. Then...was it just something so flimsy as luck that saved her?

She heard Ardyn shift, turning to rest his back against he balcony instead. "The Astrals are very odd, you know. We think of them as a group, but they are a splintered one. Oftentimes they go off and do what they want, annoying their brethren in the process. I imagine that's why you've not seen much of the Glacian of late...Bahamut will be _furious_ that she created a Messenger without his knowledge."

At this, Lunafreya's eyes snapped up to search for answers in Ardyn's face. She was treated to a slow tilting of his head and a sloppy, lop-sided grin. " _Mmmm,_ now isn't **that** something to consider. You see, my Lady, I have little reason to lie. But the Astrals? Why...they have lied enough to write history and prophecies from their falsehoods. Did she tell you she gave her life to save yours? No...no, my dear, she merely made you her little herald. Shiva must have become quite attached to you during her years as your guide. A rarity for the Glacian. Do you feel honoured?"

A...Messenger? That was...it?

She had thought there was something deeper in her survival, that she could still work to save the world she loved. That Ardyn, loathed as he was, had shown enough glimmer of hope for the good man she thought she sensed that he might be saved. That perhaps that was her calling, to save this man who was far and away the most entangled in the Starscourge.

She had served the Astrals throughout her life...and now she was to serve them as their Messenger.

"Oh come now, smile! She did sacrifice _something_ to keep you here!" Ardyn smiled, though its sincerity was hardly much to be questioned, "The Messengers number twenty-four...Shiva had to make a little room in the ranks."

With that, Ardyn pushed himself up straight, waving goodbye over his shoulder to Lunafreya. "It might be delayed, but your demise can wait for another day. I have a lot of patience, and your kind will fall when your _masters_ do."

0-0-0-0-0

Lunafreya remained on the balcony, time having stalled to little sense around her.

Why did she feel so _angry?_ She had spent her life serving the gods, and had Shiva not recast her soul into that of a Messenger, she would have died at the altar. And yet, something about it felt so cruel, so _meddling._ Yes, she had served the gods, but of her own choice and desire. Now, Lunafreya was painfully aware of the shackles that bound her to the Astrals. A servant of the gods.

And who should be the one to tell her this truth but the man who wanted to _kill_ her. Loathe that she was to admit it, but a small part of her heart had begun to understand a facet of the Chancellor's apparent dislike of the Astrals.

A vibration in her pocket startled her out of her reverie, and she fumbled for her mobile phone even as the guilt of leaving the Carbuncle to wait and worry twisted her stomach again.

 **[Look down. I thought you might wonder why your feet were getting warm but you seemed pretty lost in you thoughts.]**

Peering over the top of the device, Lunafreya spotted the black-glossy eyes of the Carbuncle staring up at her, its fluffy body parked neatly on her feet. It gave a squeak of a greeting, then cocked its head to the side as the phone vibrates again.

 **[I got worried so I came looking. Sorry it took so long! I can't get too close to the red haired guy.]**

The Oracle squatted down to lay a hand gently on the Messenger's head.

"I'm so sorry...I wanted to come out to find you sooner but...yes, I'm afraid I had some poor company to contend with. Carbuncle, I need to ask you something." The little creature nodded under her hand, so she continued, "Did you know what Shiva did? To...to me?"

Once more, the phone vibrated in Luna's other hand.

 **[Huh? Sounds like you have stuff to tell me too. Can we go someplace nicer please? We need a new plan of action!]**

Lunafreya gave a sad laugh, smiling weakly at the Carbuncle. What could she do now that would help Noctis and this world? What limits would be upon her when it came to her free will versus the demands of the gods?

Yes...I daresay we do."


End file.
